Summary

Arthur truly couldn't imagine his life getting any worse. There wasn't room for him on the seats so he was laying on his back on a filthy limo carpet, trying his best not to get kicked by several pretty women in heels, headed toward a job he vowed to quit every year.

"Are we there yet? I have to pee," a dark haired girl leaned over to look at him, her glass dribbling Champagne precariously near his face.

"Almost. Would anyone like to hear about the suitor?" he asked, forcing a cheerful tone and wincing at their resulting squeals. He held up a head shot, allowing them to snatch it from him.